I just love the idea of my kids finding my journal after I'm gone and seeing all the places I've been, or better yet, that we have been together. It would be a shame if I didn't provide them that opportunity.
Fishing has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I was a little girl, my father would load up my brothers and me in a rented RV and take us up the 395 Highway for a week of lake fishing in the high Sierra. It leaves you breathless—and filled with expectation—for what is awaiting all whose hope is found in Christ our Lord.
I got very tired of tackle boxes falling out of my unclosed vest pockets and also forgetting where all my different boxes were located. Not to mention all the unbelievably annoying zippers. So I chose to go ultra-light.
When I started in ministry, I wanted Mayberry. I wanted a peaceful Thomas Kinkade scene that drew you into a walk to the fishing hole, humming the melody to “Nothing but the Blood of Jesus” all the way. What I got was much more Biblical.
Not everyone loves to hunt as the weather turns cooler and even cold. Many die hard anglers find ways to make winter fishing trips and keep fresh fillets in the skillet all winter. Recently I hooked-up (no pun intended) with one such guy.